Unholy Trinity
by HighlandsgirlLilyGhostShellSue
Summary: Two men and the woman they both love survive a bust gone wrong. Three fanfic friends have joined forces to bring you three different perspectives that will lead to one happy ending! A collaborative effort from: ShellSueD, highlands girl, & LilyGhost
1. An Arresting Development

_**This chapter is written by SHELLSUED**_

_JE owns all the rights to anything familiar - all mistakes are mine - but hopefully the awesome beta work of alix33 caught most of them._

**Thanks highlands girl and LilyGhost for letting me collaborate with you :)**

* * *

**JOE MORELLI POV**

"What the hell is your problem? Did someone piss in your coffee?"

I shot my partner a look and then glanced down at the paper cup I'd filled to the brim on the way out of the station. It was way past too late to be consuming caffeine, but I was running on empty from almost an entire week of no sleep and needed it if I wanted to be upright and coherent. Cops lived on coffee and unfortunately didn't make it well. Most of the time it tasted like a mixture of battery acid and dryer lint but tonight it wasn't half bad. Lynda, the late shift dispatcher, must have made it this time. I was fairly confident she hadn't pissed in it.

"Why don't you fuck off?" I snapped, "And for Christ's sake watch the road!" Simmons yanked the wheel to the left and we narrowly avoided clipping the back bumper of a tan minivan. The sudden shift made most of the extremely hot liquid slosh out onto the front of my jeans. I swore again, wondering why I'd even let the asshole drive.

"Here." Simmons shoved some napkins at me that he'd retrieved from the center console compartment. It was useless but I pressed them to the wet spot anyway and gave him another filthy look.

"Great," I muttered. "This is just fucking great. Who taught you how to drive? I look like I pissed myself." And now I have to walk into the biggest bust of my career looking like I can't hold my bladder. I can picture the smug smile on Mañoso's face already.

My partner for the last eight months leveled me with his glacier blue eyes and it was a glare worthy of my Grandma Bella's best stare. "You know, Morelli, you've been a first class prick all week and I've about had my fill of your shit. I didn't purposely dump the coffee in your lap, but I kinda wish I was that big of an asshole. Right now I'd really like to drown you in a vat of it."

Part of me was shocked at the outburst. Jake Simmons was a fairly mild-mannered guy. There wasn't much that ever riled him and it was one of the reasons I'd chosen him for a partner when I was tagged by Internal Affairs for this job. It was a shit assignment; no one wanted to hunt one of our own, even if the rumors were true - and in this case they were. Two of my fellow detectives on the force were suspected of selling guns and a shit ton of C4 to the highest bidder and they were guilty as hell.

Simmons and I had a whole cabinet full of evidence on both of them that we'd spent most of the last half a year gathering and in that whole time, he'd never once even raised his voice.

Although, to be fair, I _was _being a dick. And I knew it. I'd had a short fuse since I got back from Hawaii a month ago and I couldn't seem to shake it. What should have been a fun, sexy weekend on the beach turned to shit when I discovered Stephanie in her hotel room with Ranger. Lucky for all of us I hadn't found them in bed together or I might have shot them both.

I did lose my temper and Ranger and I ended up in a painful and dirty fight that was about two years overdue. We'd been carefully avoiding each other since but now we had to work together on this bust and that fact wasn't doing much to improve my mood.

The job had gotten complicated when it was discovered the slimeball cops were selling the weapons to a local mob family and from there they were making their way into the hands of a terrorist organization based out of Greece. That brought in the feds.

And of _fucking _course, Ranger's company was contracted by the ATF to intercept the guns before they left the country. Except I found out a week ago there was way more to it than that. The information was far above my pay grade so I hadn't been read in, and that's why I only overheard half of a conversation between the chief and god only knows who when I was eaves dropping outside his office.

To say I hadn't liked what I heard would be a gross understatement. I always suspected there was more to the guy than that _man of mystery_ shit he projected but to have it mostly confirmed was a whole other can of worms. I tried calling in some favors to get the complete story but got shot down at every turn. Apparently he has some serious clout with someone high in the government ranks because his record is sealed tighter than a drum.

Ranger was dangerous and _lethal_ and the fact he had some sort of spell over Stephanie scared the crap out of me. I should have kept her away from him when I first noticed the way he looked at her. Of course trying to keep Steph from doing _anything_ was like trying to capture lightning in a bottle.

"Just drive and try not to kill us," I grumbled and Jake blew out a frustrated sigh.

"Maybe you'd be less of an asshole if you got laid. I have a cousin who talks about you non-stop. I could make a call."

"_Jesus_, Simmons. You're not my pimp and I have a girlfriend."

His eyes flickered to mine and I saw the skepticism. He'd unfortunately been a witness to the argument I'd had with Stephanie two weeks ago. It was a bad one and I hadn't seen her since but he didn't need to know that.

"Just trying to help."

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. The sad part was he really _was_ trying to help. Jake was just that kind of a guy and he didn't deserve my attitude. "Yeah, I know. Let's get to the warehouse and get this job done." It was as good of an apology as I could manage and it would have to do for now. I'd buy him a couple beers when it was over. Or maybe a dozen.

"Roger that."

It was nearly ten and the street was mostly deserted. Simmons eased the car to the curb about a block back and as soon as he cut the engine my phone rang. I already knew it was Ranger, but I checked the display anyway.

"Speak," I said into the receiver.

"Nice of you to join us, Morelli. We're ready to roll on this. The perimeter is clear for a mile and as a precaution I have men positioned at every possible escape route; however we don't expect any issues. My spotter saw your two rogue associates go inside the building five minutes ago and the Grizolli brothers weren't far behind."

I glanced at my watch in irritation thinking we must be late because according to all the Intel, no one was set to arrive at the warehouse for another twenty minutes. I should have known he'd be here already. He probably did it just to annoy me and I was feeling pissed that it was working. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. We go in on foot in ten. Tank and I will head in from the west, you and your partner from your current eastern position. We'll coordinate the actual breach when we're in the lot." The asshole disconnected and I had to rein in the urge to punch a hole through the dash. I didn't know what pissed me off more, that fact that he was running this op, or that he seemed to be enjoying bossing me around.

I muttered a few choice words under my breath, but loud enough to draw a questioning look from Simmons. "Get your gear and let's go," I commanded curtly. I could tell he wanted to tell me where I could shove it but he wisely kept his trap shut.

We hoofed it to the parking lot of the warehouse and I had my gun out and hanging loosely at my side while I scanned the darkness on our approach. I didn't see Ranger or that behemoth that worked for him and I silently did a little internal victory dance for beating him. _I really should have known better. _

The man appeared out of a shadow like smoke with Tank at his back and my temporary joy at besting the legend deflated like a day old balloon. It was very dark with only a flickering street lamp lending any light and still his all-seeing eyes dipped to the wet stain on the front of my jeans. If he said a word about it, I might have to shoot him. "We need to do a sweep of the lot and then get into position to enter the building. There are only two ways in, a front and rear entrance. You and Simmons can enter through the front and create a diversion so Tank and I can slip in the back undetected."

At least he had the decency not to mention my pants but everything in me wanted to argue with his instruction. Simmons nodded his blond head in assent without a word so what choice did I have? Saying anything at this point would just make me look like a belligerent asshole. It took a lot of restraint not to spout what I really wanted to and I think I could actually taste the bitterness I'd been feeling for months when I uttered, "Your call."

He gave us a single nod and with his Glock leading the way in a sweeping arc, we headed into the parking area. There were the expected vehicles of the men we knew were inside the building but there was one that didn't belong anywhere near the place and Ranger and I saw it at the same time. The yellow piece of shit with the broken taillights and the hole in the floor of the back seat was parked in the far right corner of the lot.

"Shit," I said out loud as a tight fist seemed to clamp around my heart and squeeze. Ranger's cool gaze met what I'm sure was my panicked eyes but there was no indication of any emotion on his face. He had his phone out before I even went to reach for mine.

"Voicemail," he said quietly while I was still dialing. A second later I heard her voice as well, telling me to leave a message after the beep. I tried her landline next, knowing he probably already had. "Her GPS has her in the building," he added and I lifted my eyes from my phone.

I could feel the anger boiling quickly to an unhealthy degree but I couldn't stop it. "You're tracking her?"

Ranger and Tank shared a look that I couldn't identify but I knew they'd communicated something. "I'm going in to get her," he announced and it sounded almost offhand, like this couldn't completely ruin a job eight months in the making. "Be ready to move in when I give the word."

He turned away from us and I looked to Tank and Simmons hoping to see what I was feeling on their faces but they were as blank as Ranger's always was. It was going to be up to me to stop him and I knew it was going to get ugly.

"Whoa, hold up." I shot out a hand and wrapped it around his forearm before he could get out of reach."You can't just storm in there. We don't even know where she is or why she's here. This could fuck up the whole operation. Let's try and get some more Intel before you go in with guns blazing." I thought I made a pretty good argument and I hoped at least Simmons would back me up but he didn't say anything and when Ranger's eyes dropped to the fingers I had wrapped around his arm I knew I was fucked.

"If you ever want to use that hand again, I suggest you remove it immediately."

I wasn't stupid enough not to so I let him go and tried again to reason with him. "You know the job is toast if you go in there. There has to be another way. What the fuck is she doing here anyway? _Christ_." I ran a hand through my hair in frustration and worry. Stephanie was always stumbling into things she had no business being around and one day it was going to get her killed. My heart twisted again beneath my ribs and I prayed to God that today wouldn't be that day. I didn't know if I could handle it if anything happened to her.

"I'm going in after her, Morelli. If you try and stop me again, I'll put a bullet in your leg."

I didn't doubt he was serious but when he turned away from me I tried one more time anyway. "You're letting your dick control your…"

I didn't get to finish what I knew was about the stupidest thing I could say to the man who'd just threatened to shoot me because the building exploded into a giant ball of fire as soon as he took the first step towards it.

My heart dropped into my stomach as the flames jumped high into the night sky. The whole building was consumed in a matter of seconds and there was no chance anyone inside it could have survived. Stephanie was gone. She was surely and truly gone and I felt like I was frozen to the asphalt as I watched it burn.

I didn't even see him coming until it was too late and the look in his eyes terrified me to the very core of my being.

Ranger's fist connected with my nose and I knew it was broken before the second punch to my gut knocked me off my feet. The scrape of pavement across my shoulder was brutal but I managed to roll as another hit came and it only grazed off my arm. I got on my feet and with the full force my body weight behind me, I took a swing at him. He pivoted at the last second and my fist landed hard against his shoulder. Two more followed in quick succession, making him dance back a couple steps.

I'd been a boxer in the navy and the moves came back instinctually. I had a reputation for taking out my opponents by dislocating their shoulders and I thought that was probably my best option as far as Ranger was concerned. I had to do _something_ or he was going to knock me down and if he got me on the ground again, I was screwed. He was fast and ruthless and I did my best to keep up but I knew I was severely out matched. The hits to my head, abdomen, and kidneys seemed to come in an endless loop. I managed a couple to his face but concentrated my efforts on his shoulder and just when I thought he was starting to weaken, he swept my feet out from under me and I went down hard. The back of my head smacked against the asphalt and when I opened my eyes, Ranger was above me with his fist on its way to my nose once again.

I was saved by Tank physically removing him from me. The beefy arms came around Ranger's sternum and yanked him off. I rolled to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood. My eyes were swelling and my head was ringing but I still heard the tail end of the words coming out of that giant mug.

"…wasn't in there. She's safe at home. I swear she wasn't in there."

Relief flooded through my veins and for a second I didn't feel any pain. Stephanie was safe and that's all that mattered. Simmons squatted beside me and held out towel. "Are you okay?"

I wasn't sure and I didn't really care. As long as Stephanie was, I didn't give a fuck what state I was in. "I'll live," I muttered and he helped me to my feet. That's when I noticed the fire trucks and the patrol cars and the chief of police heading my way. He didn't look pleased.

Carl Costanza was on his heels and I didn't even process what the chief was saying until I was in the back of a squad car and on my way to the station.

"Are the cuffs really necessary, Carl?" I shifted in the seat, adjusting the position of my hands. They were slightly swollen and the cuffs were making it even more uncomfortable. I was also sure I was getting blood all over the car as he'd insisted on cuffing me behind the back.

"You know the procedure," he told me from behind the wheel and if my eyes weren't so puffy, I would have rolled them.

I did know the protocol, I just hadn't been on the receiving end before. I glared at the back of his head through the mesh screen separating the back seat from the front. I kept my mouth shut the rest of the ride and when we arrived at the station, I was hoping Carl would take me in through the side entrance but he paraded me through the booking area, adding to the already abundant humiliation.

Ranger was brought in a minute later by Robin Russell and after we went through the booking process, the abasement continued when we were assigned to the same cell.

"It's the only one open," Carl assured me when I put up a protest.

_Fucking great_. More time to spend with the guy who just did his best to obliterate me with his fists. I was the first one in and headed for the lower bunk bed. Had to take my victories where I could get them, plus I didn't think I could actually climb onto the top bunk.

I lay down and didn't say a word, hoping Ranger wouldn't either because my head was pounding and the last thing I wanted to do was listen to his bullshit. Thankfully he stayed quiet; we both did until Costanza appeared in front of the bars to inform us it was time to talk. They'd kept us locked up all night and I wasn't in the mood to wait any longer and then the stupid prick tried to get Ranger to go first but I wasn't having it. I pulled rank on him and he caved quickly, leading me down the hall. I thought we would go to an interrogation room but he led me into a small office that I wasn't sure anyone even used anymore.

I settled into the metal folding chair and as soon as soon as Carl took a seat across from me, I asked for a something to drink, just to be a dick. He let out a small sigh, but fulfilled my request without comment. When he returned he had bottles of water and also a damp towel so I could wipe off some of the blood, making me feel like an asshole for being a jerk.

He pushed some papers around on the desk before finally asking me if I was ready to begin. I gave him a nod and he clicked on the small, hand-held tape recorder. He stated his name and badge number and indicated he was interviewing me regarding the events at the warehouse.

"Please state your name for the record."

I blew out a frustrated sigh, not really sure why the fuck I was even here. Ranger was the one that mucked everything up and then attacked me but we'd both been arrested and I was more than a little peeved.

"Are we really gonna do it this way, Costanza?"

He clicked of the recorder and gave me a look. "Cut me some slack here, Joe. This is protocol and you really ticked off the chief so if you want to get out of here anytime soon, you're gonna need to tell me what happened."

"Fine. Have you been read in?" I knew he probably was on the PD's side of the operation, but I didn't want to reveal anything I shouldn't on the ATF side.

"I know everything," he said curtly, probably thinking that was a dig on his patrol officer rank. He turned the recorder back on and asked for my name again.

I knew he was just doing his job and I wouldn't be doing it any differently if our roles were reversed but I still didn't like it. "Detective Morelli, Joseph. Trenton PD." I also recited my badge number and then went into the details of the cluster fuck starting with my arrival at the property. Carl didn't interrupt until I got to the part where we saw Steph's car.

"So Ranger was already there? And he didn't spot the car before you got there?"

I thought it was odd at first too, but he hadn't been in the lot until we both went in together. He only had eyes on the building from a distance and they were watching the bodies going in, not the cars.

I shook my head and went on. "We saw the car at the same time. It was at the back of the lot, half hidden by a dumpster."

"I'm assuming you attempted to reach her."

"Yeah, Carl, we're not complete idiots. We couldn't reach her by phone and then fucking…" I cut myself off; the chief wouldn't like the swearing on the official record. "And then Mañoso announced he was going to go into the building to get her out."

"Which could have jeopardized the whole operation…you tried to stop him?"

"Of course I tried to stop him and then the freaking building blew up before he even took two steps." I swallowed hard as I saw the fireball again. I knew if I hadn't argued with him I would have followed Ranger inside and we'd both be nothing but burned up bones right now. But honestly, I was trying not to think about that too much.

"And you must have thought Stephanie was inside. I bet that was….awful." There was something odd in his tone and in the look on his face but I couldn't quite place it.

"Yeah, it fucking sucked, Carl. _Jesus_." I'd felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest and for a moment I wished I'd been inside with her. If she was gone, I wanted to be gone too.

Carl cleared his throat and flipped through the manila file that was resting on the desk. "And when did Ranger hit you?"

He said it casually, almost as an afterthought, yet it still made my stomach drop like I'd swallowed a lead weight. As long as I live I will never forget the rage, the nearly psychopathic frenzy in his eyes right before Ranger's fist connected with my face. It was only a second but in that moment I knew exactly what he was capable of and if Tank hadn't been there to stop him, I'm positive Ranger would have killed me.

I squirmed in my seat, feeling a little uncomfortable and at that moment I was glad at the sorry state of my face so Carl couldn't see the color I felt flaming my cheeks. I'd gotten my ass beat. I knew it, Carl knew it and for sure _Ranger_ knew it and I was embarrassed that it was as bad as it was. Normally I didn't have any trouble holding my own in a fight, but Ranger was far from normal. Truthfully, I'm lucky it wasn't a lot worse.

"Pretty much right after the building blew. Look, that's it okay, there's nothing left to tell. Can I get my phone call now?"

Carl closed the folder and then asked about Stephanie. I relayed what I'd heard from Tank and he jotted it down even though the recorder was still going. When he finally turned it off and pushed back from the desk I was sweating, every inch of my body was throbbing and I was having a hard time not letting him see what kind of pain I was actually in.

"Listen, Joe, the chief is thoroughly pissed, but as soon as he calms down and we sort out the bodies and the paperwork I'm sure he'll drop the charges, or at least reduce them so don't worry too much about it." He lifted out of the chair and slid the phone on the desk toward me. "Normally you'd be sent up to booking and the bank of payphones, but this one's working if you want to use it. I'll give you five minutes."

He left me alone and I let out a long breath. I stared at the phone for a minute, debating who to call. I wanted to hear Stephanie's voice, but after the last fight we had, I was sure I'd be the last person she'd want to hear from, and she probably wouldn't even take my call if I attempted it. I was going to fix that. I would fix everything between us, no matter what it took because if this whole mess taught me one thing, it was that I didn't want to live without her. The price was high with Stephanie and sometimes I didn't know if I'd be able to pay it, but I knew I wanted to try.

I sighed and picked up the phone, dialing the number by heart and she answered on the first ring. "Hey…yeah I know….I'm sure you have….how many phone calls? Look….okay, I know, _Jesus_. I just wanted to tell you I wouldn't be there….No I don't…..yes I'm sure you do. I gotta go, I'll swing by later."

I hung up and could have made another call to have someone bail me out but I thought Carl was right, the chief would drop the charges and I wouldn't have to worry about it. Frankly I just wanted to lie back down for a while and the jail cell was as good as anywhere else, except for Steph's bed….but that wasn't going to happen. Not yet anyway.

Carl knocked on the door and then led me back to my shared cell. Hopefully I could get some sleep and maybe think about how I was going to get back into Stephanie's good graces while he interrogated Ranger.


	2. Making Bail

**From highlands girl**: _You heard the backstory: ShellSueD challenged me to write a story about a conversation between Joe and Ranger (I think she even threw in the part about the jail cell). Then she graciously allowed me to claim Ranger's POV and she didn't bat an eye when I sent her what was clearly the middle part of a story, leaving her and LilyGhost to write the beginning and the ending. LOL. I've never been much of a linear thinker. It was truly an honor and loads of fun to collaborate with ShellSueD and LilyGhost._

_Huge thanks to Dog in the Manger for reading and re-reading my chapter and making it better. All mistakes are mine. _

_Thanks for reading!_

For a jail cell, it wasn't half bad. It wasn't as nice as the holding cells we had at RangeMan, but I'd certainly seen worse. It was definitely a step up from the juvie detention center in Newark, and it was miles ahead of the shit hole outside Ciudad de Juarez where I'd spent three days after a mission that had turned into a total clusterfuck.

This one had an actual toilet in one corner rather than just a hole in the floor, and scratchy gray-white sheets covered each of the bunks bolted to the left wall.

My cellmate had claimed the bottom bunk, no doubt thinking that it would piss me off, but I actually preferred the top one. I had some illusion of privacy here, barely eighteen inches from the ceiling, and that helped me get into what Stephanie called my "zone." During my first year in the Rangers, I'd learned to meditate Soto Zen style: eyes half open, aware of, but not interacting with my surroundings. It turned out to be a useful skill for a soldier.

I picked a brown water stain on a ceiling tile as a focus point and then started to work on my breathing. _Slow inhale. Slow exhale._

I let myself be distracted by the sound of footsteps on the tile floor outside the cell. Hard-soled police issue - I guessed about the shoes - squeaking softly, they were probably new. The sounds grew louder, closer, and then ceased altogether. Carl Costanza stopped on the other side of the bars and cleared his throat.

"The chief wants me to take your statements, and then you both get your phone call." He cleared his throat again. "Maybe we'll just go in alpha order—"

"Goddammit, Carl, I'm a fucking police detective. As the ranking officer here, I'm going first."

_In your dreams, Morelli, _I thought._ Slow inhale. Slow exhale._ Carl coughed nervously, and I suspected he knew who outranked whom and thought I was going to argue. But I didn't.

"Whatever," I said to Joe, staring at the spot on the ceiling as I tried not to smirk. "Besides, you know what they say. Age before beauty."

Joe stood up and scowled at me, or at least he looked as if he were trying. He had two black eyes, nearly swollen shut, and there was a trail of dried blood from his left nostril. I was pretty sure I had broken his nose. I was also reasonably certain that he hadn't dislocated my shoulder, although he'd given it a hell of an effort.

"Go to hell, Mañoso."

"Just got back, actually." _Didn't like it much._ I shifted on the rough sheet, trying to avoid putting any weight on the injured shoulder, and went back to focusing on the spot on the ceiling.

Forty minutes later Morelli'd had his turn, and I was following Carl down the hall to a small room, no bigger than a janitor's closet. He squeezed himself behind a scarred wooden desk and motioned for me to take the folding chair in front. He took a moment, arranging the few items that sat on top of the desk: a manila folder stuffed with papers, a handheld tape recorder, two bottles of water. When he took several papers out of the folder and studied them, I studied _him._

Just about everything about Carl Costanza was average: average height, average build, hair that was half way between blond and brown.

Without any preamble, he reached out for the recorder and flicked it on. "For the record, this is Officer Costanza, Carl interviewing—" he paused, consulted his papers, "Ricardo Carlos Mañoso."

Carl shut off the recorder. "That's really your name? Ricardo Carlos Mañoso?"

"Did you honestly think my parents named me Ranger?"

"Ah, well, no. Of course not." He reached for the recorder, thought better of it and went back to the papers in front of him.

"Ricardo Carlos Mañoso III?"

"It's a family name." I thought that was explanation enough.

Carl cleared his throat and looked at me expectantly.

"What? You're surprised that I have a family?"

He took some more papers out of the file, shuffled them, swiveled his chair from side to side. "No… no, of course not. It's just, well, I'm wondering what your family calls you. Ricardo? Ric?" He paused. "Ricky?"

I gave him my best _eat shit and die, asshole_ look. The one that never failed to make two-bit warlords in Somalia piss their pants.

To his credit, Carl paled, but he didn't flinch. Much. "Sorry," he said. "Of course it wouldn't be Ricky."

"No, it wouldn't." He certainly didn't need to know that my two youngest sisters still called me that, despite my best efforts to make them stop.

He clicked the recorder back on. "So…. Mr. Mañoso. You want to tell me what happened last night?"

Good old Carl. He'd lobbed me an easy question.

"No." Honestly, I really didn't want to talk about it.

He grimaced, realizing his mistake.

"At approximately 2200 hours last night, you were at a warehouse at 127 Dock Street. Is that correct?"

When I nodded, he made another face. "We're recording, Mr. Mañoso. I'll need a yes or no."

"Yes."

"Detective Morelli was there as well."

Not hearing a question, I sat silently, waited. Carl waited too and for a full minute we just listened to the ticking clock on the wall. Finally, he caved.

"The chief read me in on the op, got me clearance. I know that we had a couple of dirty cops who were selling guns, light artillery, and a load of C4, all confiscated during several gang busts, to a certain local crime family. I also know that said crime family was getting ready to move those guns to a terrorist organization in Greece that has been implicated in multiple murders, including those of a CIA station chief and a naval attaché in Athens.

"Joe was tasked by Trenton IAB to bring down the dirty cops and you and RangeMan had a contact with the feds to intercept the guns before they actually made it to the terrorists."

"RangeMan had a contact with ATF," I confirmed. Apparently Carl's security clearance wasn't high enough to know that I had actually been recalled to active duty by the Department of Defense. Solid intel had it that the guns were not going to Greece, but rather members of the 17 November group were coming here. A U.S.-European Union economic summit was being held at the Plaza in New York City next week and the terrorists saw a chance to take out our President, the British Prime Minister and the German Chancellor in one fell swoop. If the terrorists showed, it was my job to stop them.

Carl shut off the recorder and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk.

"Listen Ranger, I've always admired and respected you and RangeMan… the work that you do. You might not be willing to say the same about me, but I'm not the enemy here. The chief had you and Morelli booked on obstruction of justice, and if you give me something I can work with, I can probably get it bumped down to disturbing the peace, if not dismissed altogether." He stopped long enough to twist the cap off one of the bottles of waters and take a long swallow. "You're going to have to work with me though."

I nodded slowly, and he reached out and turned on the recorder on… again.

"When we arrived at the warehouse, there was a canary yellow '98 Volkswagen Beetle parked in the adjacent parking lot."

"Like Stephanie's. You run the plates?"

"Plastic covers over both taillights cracked, as if someone had backed into a low retaining wall, such as the one in the parking lot of the TPD. Deep scratch, passenger door. Front tire, driver's side, low on air."

"Shit. So, you knew it was hers without needing to run the plates." He ran his fingers through his hair. "She had no reason to be mixed up in this op, from what I know about it. There had to be a good explanation for her car being there."

"That's what I was thinking when I dialed her phone. It went straight to voicemail."

"Magnet for disaster. She's always been that way," Carl muttered under his breath.

"When I couldn't reach her by phone, I pulled up her GPS coordinates. Her tracker placed her inside the build-"

"Wait, Steph has a tracker? You had her chipped?"

"God, no. You know she would never agree to that." Although I'd considered begging and pleading after the Stiva fiasco when she' been locked in a cabinet inside that damn funeral home. "It was in her purse." Sewn into a little pocket under the lining of the black messenger bag she almost always carried.

"And she agreed to that?"

I shrugged. "She knew it was there. So given that her car was in the lot and her tracker placed her inside the building, I had to assume that she was inside the building."

"And you attempted to enter the building before the bust went down, to get her out? And Joe stopped you?"

"More like Detective Morelli _attempted_ to prevent me from entering the building. I communicated my intentions to him and was headed toward the warehouse when it exploded."

Carl looked a little pale he snapped the recorded off.

"You thought Stephanie was inside."

I nodded. Remembering how quickly the building had been engulfed in flames made my gut twist.

"And then you proceeded to beat the shit out of Joe."

What could I say? It was the truth. For the few moments, when I thought I'd lost her, nothing else really mattered. I might have killed Morelli if Tank hadn't pulled me off him, made me hear that Stephanie was actually in her apartment, safe and sound.

As dispassionately as I could, I relayed what Tank had told me about Stephanie's day leading up to the explosion at the warehouse. When I was finished, Carl relaxed back in his chair and shook his head in disbelief.

"Really, what are the chances that Steph would arrange to meet an informant, a prostitute who claimed to have knowledge about one of her current skips, in that particular parking lot? Who could have predicted that she would have traded her purse for information… or that the one of the cops you were targeting would tag that same prostitute for a quick bang on the night he was supposed to make the transfer?"

I shrugged. I'd given up playing the odds with Stephanie Plum. As best I could tell, she was one in a million.

"Then there's the matter of her car. She drove it there and it just died, so she called Lula for a ride home?"

To that, I simply raised an eyebrow. Stephanie's car troubles were legendary. It was more surprising that the explosion hadn't destroyed the Beetle.

"OK," Carl agreed. "Maybe that's not so hard to believe. But she had nothing to do with the building explosion, right? That was just a faulty wiring system and a whole lot of C4 close to the warehouse's boiler room?" I nodded, because that was likely to be the official story. It was much more plausible that 17 November had learned that their Trenton operation was compromised and was tying up loose ends. We'd detained a person of interest, a street thug named Dimetri Milonakis, about a block from the warehouse. We thought we'd intercepted him on his way into the building but now I'd bet the Turbo that he was actually on his way out after rigging the explosion. I hadn't yet figured out how we'd let him slip through the perimeter we'd built, but I was damn sure that the entire RangeMan leadership team would be reviewing our procedures in excruciating detail.

Carl interrupted my internal critique session by making more throat clearing noises. I was beginning to wonder if Officer Costanza had some sort of nervous tic. "Well then it sounds as if Joe saved your life by preventing-" I glared at him, "uh, delaying your entry into the building." I hadn't given that much thought, but I supposed he was right. If Detective Morelli ever came to the same conclusion, I suspected he would be supremely pissed.

Carl pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket as if he meant to write something on one of his papers. He ended up just tapping it absentmindedly on the edge of the desk.

"So let me make sure I've got this straight. You were willing to risk an operation that had been more than eight months in the making, potentially damage RangeMan's reputation and screw up your government contract in order to get Stephanie out of harm's way?"

"That and more," I said softly. "Not that I expect you to understand that."

Carl shut off the recorder and left it off.

"You'd be surprised," he said. "You forget that Stephanie and I go way back. We met in kindergarten. She's easy to fall in love with and nearly impossible to get over." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "That," he said. "I understand perfectly."

It was then that I realized that I was wrong about Carl Costanza. He was anything but an average cop.

oOoOo

When I returned to the cell, Morelli was on his bunk, one arm flung across his face. I didn't expect him to acknowledge me, and I wasn't disappointed. Settling on my own bunk, I found my brown spot on the ceiling and started my routine. _Inhale-_

"So, who was it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your phone call? Who'd you tag? Your fancy ass attorney or your second?"

"My second? You mean Tank?"

He grunted his assent.

"Neither. I called Stephanie."

"Christ, Mañoso. You honestly think she can – or will – bail you out?"

"Maybe, maybe not. But that's not why I called her. I just wanted to hear her voice." I glanced over at him. "It's one of my few joys in life."

"Fuckin' lunatic," he muttered.

"You would think so."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I didn't expect you to understand. When you had Stephanie, you never appreciated her."

"What do you mean 'had'?" We've been in off phases before, but it's never stuck. If I wanted her in my bed tonight, she'd be there."

"You think, Morelli?"

He let a few beats of silence pass. When he spoke again, the anger in his voice had mostly been replaced by sadness.

"When the building blew, I felt as if—"

_As if my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Yeah, Morelli, I get it._

"My worst nightmare had finally come true," he finished. "You don't understand my relationship with Stephanie? I know that. You go right on thinking I'm some unsupportive asshole because I want her to quit her job and stay away from you. Well, I'm not going to pretend that every stalker, every kidnapping, every car explosion doesn't piss me off because it does. Anything, and _anybody_, who might take Stephanie away from me, pisses me off.

_Amen to that. Who knew Morelli and I would be on exactly the same page about Stephanie?_

"Did you know I saw her go off the garage roof? It scared the shit out of me. She didn't cry when she hit the ground… there was just this_ thump_ as she hit and then she didn't move for what seemed like forever. God damn it, I was ten years old the first time I thought I'd lost her. It sucked then and it's sucked worse every time since."

_Ramirez. Stiva. Cone. Scrog. Even that asshole Brewer. Yeah, got that. Sucked worse every time. _

"Sometimes I have empathy for the junkies, you know? I seem to need her like a crack addicts needs a fix. With Stephanie, the high is always mind-blowing. Christ, the sex alone is—"

"I don't need to hear this, Morelli." _Because I know. God, I know. _"I doubt that Steph is the kind of woman who appreciates kiss and tell."

"It's not _just _the sex, though." He shook his head and voice dropped. "Sometimes, all she has to do is look at me and smile while she's winding one of those brown curls around her finger and …"

_Again, I know. _

"There's always a crash after though. Sometimes it's an argument so bitter I think I never want to see her again, or some sort of disaster so ugly I'm terrified that I won't." He sighed and I saw a look of resignation on his face. "I… I'm finally beginning to think I can't afford the price of the high… that the cost is just too great."

And that was where Morelli and I diverged, a point on which we could never agree. I'd said it to Stephanie more than once and I'd meant it. _No price. _

"So what did you do with your one phone call? You call an attorney? Your union rep, maybe?"

He coughed and when he spoke, his voice was so low I could hardly hear him. "My mom."

"What?"

"You heard me," he growled. "I called my mother." He at least had he decency to look chagrined. "I'm expected at her house after Sunday Mass for a midday meal. She'd worry if I just didn't show up."

"I see."

I felt the tingle on the back of my neck a good two seconds before I heard the telltale click of stilettos on the jail's floor, caught a whiff of the perfume she favored. _Dolce Vita._ Sweet life. _Sweet indeed knowing that she was alive and well._

I was off the top bunk and on my feet when she appeared on the other side of the bars wearing shiny red high-heeled shoes, skintight indigo jeans, and a snug white t-shirt edge in lace. She gasped when she saw me, and reached out to hold one of the bars for support. When she did, the little t-shirt rode up, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin at the top of her very low cut jeans. Behind me, Morelli sucked in air through his nose, and Carl had to enter the key code twice to unlock the cell.

"Shit, Ranger, what did you do to your lip?" she asked as she slid in next to me.

"Takedown gone wrong. The other guy looks way worse."

Stephanie glanced over at Joe. "Yeah, I guess I can see that." She ran her thumb over the part of my lip that was swollen, purple and crusted with dried blood. "This looks like it really hurts. Let's get you out of here so you can put some ice on it."

"Or maybe you could just kiss it and make it better."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wondered if I would regret them. Stephanie continued to be flustered by the physical attraction between us, and I'd just pulled the tiger's tail, in front of her boyfriend no less. _No,_ I corrected, _former boyfriend. _

She moved her hand away from my bloodied lip so that her palm cupped my cheek.

"I could do that," she agreed. "You have any other sore spots that I need to take care of while I'm at it?"

_Oh yeah, Babe. There's a part of me that just aches for you. _

Her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes got a little glassy as she thought she'd read my mind. I put my hand over hers, brought her fingertips back to my lips, kissed them gently.

"I've missed you," I said, the ache in my heart easing just a little as my words echoed off the concrete walls of the cell.

She managed to lift one eyebrow at me, in that endearing way that she had. It was still hard for her, but I knew from Lester, who'd caught her in front of the mirror in the gym one day, that she'd been practicing.

"You saw me yesterday in the bonds office, when I picked up the Jonas file."

"That's not what I mean and you know it." I shoved a hand into my pocket and fingered the diamond ring that had briefly been on Steph's left hand. We'd done an undercover job in Hawaii as husband and wife and it worked…_ we_ worked. Unfortunately, it had scared the hell out of both of us. If Morelli hadn't shown up unexpectedly at our hotel and ended our under the covers vacation, I'm convinced she eventually would have found another reason to stun me and take off.

Once I made it back to Trenton, I'd put a little distance between us, figured that if the fire between us wasn't stoked, it might settle down to a manageable smolder. That turned out to be a dumbass assumption.

Steph interrupted my mental monologue. "So you ready to go?"

Without waiting for an answer, she glanced over at Morelli, almost as an afterthought. "Am I supposed to bail him out too?"

"Doesn't matter to me," I said. "But I think he's made alternative arrangements. He called his mom."

"Ah, well then. Sunday lunch, right Joe?" She rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a key ring. A Porsche key ring. Tank must have convinced her to drive the Turbo. "I guess some things never change."

"And some do." I touched the ring in my pocket again and realized that before the night was over, I intended to see it back on her finger. _Maybe she'll tell you no_, the nagging little voice in my head whispered before I managed to silence it. _Inhale. Exhale._ "Yeah, Babe. Let's go. I'm ready to take you home."

There was a glimmer of surprise and then maybe a moment of hesitation as she chewed on her bottom lip. Finally, she looped her arm through mine, and I almost breathed a sigh of relief.

"If you're ready, then I'm ready too." She gave me a wicked smile and with a flick of her wrist, tossed me the Porsche keys. "If we're going _home_, you better drive."

"As you wish. But you could just follow the directions programmed into the GPS." _It's a long drive to Miami, Babe, but if you want to drive, I'm game. _"What?" she turned on me and stomped her sexy red FMP. "Tell me… is it saved under 'H' for home or maybe 'B' for Batcave?" Her eyes opened wider. "Wait, I've got it. 'C' for casa. You went with the Spanish, right?"

"Wrong." I gave her what she calls my 200-watt smile. "'S' for Someday." Stephanie was convinced that I had some secret lair that rivaled Wayne Manor but in reality, I owned a few acres of undeveloped beachfront property in Coral Gables. I sort of planned for us to build a house there… together.

"How long?" she whispered, her beautiful blue eyes swimming in tears.

"The GPS? Since I replaced the Boxster. But I did tell you that you were going to have to work for it."

She laid her head on my shoulder. "We were really screwed up, weren't we?"

"Old news, Babe." I placed a soft kiss on her curls and said again, "let's go."

"I feel as if I just missed something," I heard Joe say as Stephanie and I walked away, arm in arm. "What the hell was that?"

Carl sighed, and I caught a touch of wistfulness in his voice. Whether he was feeling sorry for Joe or himself, I couldn't say. "Unless I'm mistaken," said Carl, "that was the start of the happily ever after."


	3. Set Free

**From LilyGhost: Thanks ShellSueD and highlands girl for thinking that I could contribute something to a story I thought was great on its own. This chapter probably wouldn't have happened without ShellSueD giving me a direction as well as a few ideas ... Tank took over from there. All familiar characters belong to Janet. Any mistakes are mine.**

**Stephanie's POV**

Just when I think my life can't possibly get any stranger, I get a call from Tank, Ranger's right hand man. The same man who has had my cell number for years and never _once_ found a good enough reason to use it. Until tonight. In the past, Tank's voice alone scared the crap out of me. This time, I was scared because I'm not hearing Ranger's right now. Tank is only in charge when Ranger can't be.

"Where are you?" Tank bit out.

"At my apartment. Why? What happened?" I asked Tank, finally finding a caller who wouldn't care about my lack of phone etiquette. "Where's Ranger?"

I could hear some scuffling in the background before Tank came back on the line.

"I'll get back to you," he said, hanging up.

That's exactly why Tank wouldn't care about my manners, his are ten times worse than mine even on a bad day, which today turned out to be. I'd headed straight to the shower immediately after coming back from my 'meeting'. I needed lots of hot water to hopefully steam out the images I'm now being tortured with from today's crash course in Hooker 101. I also needed a _huge _glass of wine and apparently a new shoulder bag, since my snitch had taken an instant liking to mine and wouldn't budge on her payment for helping me. Which had ended up being fifty bucks in cash and the bag I bought only a week ago after my old one had an ... unfortunate accident.

Now I needed a new shoulder bag and I have no car to take to get one, because my yellow POS Beetle had died in the parking lot of a warehouse I hope never to have to see again. Crap. Looks like I need a new car, too. What's sad is that this is a typical day for me. And to make it suck even more, Tank's sudden call made me think Ranger's probably in the wind again, not that I've seen much of him lately outside of work. I didn't realize just how much I missed Ranger as a friend - and yes, as a lover, too - until he wasn't around frustrating the hell out of me daily. I'd like to do something about that, but considering Ranger's views on relationships, I felt he had to be the one to make the first move and bump what we have up from _friendship_ to _relationship. _I'm ready to give us a shot, but since Joe and I have ended things and Ranger hasn't attempted to gain access to any of my previously off-limits areas, _we _don't seem like a possibility. I refuse to feel sorry for myself, so I settled on being worried about Ranger as I scrolled through my calls in case he decided to give me a heads up on his latest disappearance.

I hadn't been in the shower all that long, but it had been enough time to have missed calls from both Ranger _and _Joe only seconds apart. What the hell were Ranger and Joe doing together? And why were they both calling me? Add in Tank, and my stomach was already forming knots. And Tank didn't say exactly when he's getting back to me. It could be five _minutes _if Ranger returned and Tank could wash his hands of me, or a friggin' _decade _if Ranger didn't. I decided to be proactive here and call both Joe and Ranger back to see if either one would pick up.

They didn't. Shit. Back to square one ... waiting for Tank. The big guy surprised me by knocking on my apartment door a half hour later. It was late, but _everyone _knows I can't sleep until I get answers. And I definitely want answers now.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Tank, but why are you here? And why isn't Ranger answering his phone?"

"And here I was relieved that you hadn't been blown up tonight."

"Blown up? Why would you think I'd been barbecued?"

"I wouldn't let Ranger hear you say that. He went a little ape-shit when he thought you'd been involved in our bust."

"I was after info on a skip tonight," I told him. "I wasn't anywhere near you guys ... or was I?"

"Let's just say you once again stumbled into something you shouldn't have," Tank said, "but it worked out."

"So Ranger's all right?"

"He'd probably be threatening everybody at the PD right now, but hearing that you're here has improved his mood dramatically."

"And Joe?"

"He's at the station, too."

"Are you smiling, Tank?"

"No. It's against company policy. Ranger knows your car's dead and wanted you to have this," Tank told me, handing over a set of keys attached to a Porsche keychain.

"No Rangeman SUV?" I asked him.

"Not this time."

"So ... can you tell me anything about what went down tonight?" I asked Tank.

"I wouldn't normally spread Ranger's shit around, but I bet he'll be calling you as soon as he's allowed."

"_Allowed? _Ranger doesn't need permission to call me."

"He does if he pissed off the Chief of Police. Ranger's being held, along with Morelli, for obstruction of justice until the Chief gets his head out of his ass."

"You're kidding?" I said, my mouth dropping open.

"No."

A horrible thought occurred to me as I remembered what happened in Hawaii between Ranger and Joe when Joe found Ranger there with me, but there's _no _way they would put Ranger and Joe together. The TPD is full of holding cells.

"They are currently cell-buddies," Tank told me.

"You are _definitely _smiling now," I said to Tank. "Does the Chief know that they'll kill each other if they share the same airspace for too long?"

"They haven't yet," was Tank's not helpful answer.

"Care to explain that?" I asked, still seeing Joe and Ranger rolling around on the floor of my Hawaiian room. "They have ... issues."

"They only have _one _issue," Tank informed me, "_you_. Get some sleep. They'll be held overnight and will still have to give statements before they can be released. Rangeman has an attorney on call, but I don't think he'll need to be brought in. My guess is that Ranger will contact you right before the Chief drops the charges against him."

"Why would Ranger call me? What can I do for him? I haven't caught my skip yet, so bail money - and food money come to think of it - is non-existent."

"Just forgive Ranger for being a dick to you since you both got back from your 'working vacation', and Rangeman will cover the money for Ranger's bail."

"Why do I have to forgive Ranger?" I asked Tank.

"Cut the shit, Stephanie," he told me. "We all know something big happened between you and Ranger while you were away. That's the first time Ranger has _ever _come back without his FTA. And there's only _one _reason I can come up with why you both came home empty-handed."

"The skip took off to parts unknown?" I said.

"No. Just cut Ranger some slack for putting up roadblocks. I think you'll find he's had a sudden change of heart."

I'd given up hope for that when I'd slipped my 'wedding' ring into Ranger's pocket before I dropped him and Joe off at the ER. I still find myself running my finger over where the diamond jewelry had been. I shook my head and tuned back into what Tank was saying.

"Ranger's Turbo is downstairs. If he needs money, it'll be available if Ranger makes you his one call instead of me. And keep what I said in mind when you do see him. Though you'll probably be feeling sympathetic when you get a look at him."

I paused, my brain filling in what Tank was only alluding to.

"So ... Ranger and Joe didn't kill each, but they tried?" I asked Tank.

"Something like that. Get some sleep while you can," Tank told me, and then let himself out.

I thought the chances of me winning the lottery are more likely.

I must have jumped three feet when my phone finally rang the next morning. I'd had maybe four hours of sleep total and three cups of coffee by then.

"Ranger?"

"Hey, Babe."

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

"Never better"

"You can say that after being arrested?"

"It's not the first time," Ranger told me. "There are more ... _important _things on my mind right now than a jail cell."

"Like what?" I asked Ranger.

I'm pretty sure I'd be thinking of _nothing _else except the fact that I was behind bars if _I'd _been the one arrested.

"I'll fill you in on them as soon as I get out of here."

"And that will be _when_?" I asked Ranger.

"Whenever Tank or my lawyer shows up."

It is Sunday and Tank deserves a day off, I thought to myself. Which is exactly what I'm telling Tank when I get him on the line as I started planning my trip to the cop shop.

"You owe me a talk when you're out of the pokey," I told Ranger.

"I owe you a lot of things, Stephanie," Ranger said, before disconnecting.

Great. Just what I need ... another phone abuser.

I called Tank right after, and he said he'd have any paperwork taken care of. All I need to do is take the Turbo and pick Ranger up. Good deal. I'm only interested in seeing Ranger anyway.

I made myself look as hot as I possibly could without wasting time. I didn't want Ranger locked up longer than he had to be. I lined my eyes, put on a healthy dose of eyeshadow and extra mascara, then applied a soft red color to my lips that maybe Ranger will be tempted to kiss off. A girl can always hope.

I slid on the pair of dark jeans that always drew Ranger's eyes to my ass, and a lace-edged, girl-cut t-shirt that may have been bought a size too small to bring attention to my somewhat toned stomach and made my okay breasts seem bigger. I slipped on a pair of red heels that put me at almost the same height as Ranger. I wouldn't admit to dressing the way I am for a guy, but damn ... that's exactly what I'm doing. Of course, Ranger isn't just _any _guy, and he had to be approached differently.

The Porsche was as orgasmic as I remembered it being. I was almost sorry to pull into the parking lot of the Trenton PD and park. Only knowing that Ranger is inside had me leaving the comfy leather seat and new car smell. I knew the scent of the car could very well be because it _is _brand new. Ranger acquires new cars as often as normal people buy toilet paper.

My old buddy Carl led me to Ranger and Joe's holding cell, and I couldn't help but catch the subtle way Carl was checking me out. Looks like I still got it. I was smiling up until I saw Ranger's cut lip and the shabby accommodations he'd been locked in. There were brown water stains marring the otherwise white ceiling, the bedding looked about as inviting as sandpaper, and the in-room toilet I wouldn't go near even with a vat of bleach and a scrub brush equipped with ten feet of handle. Now I get why my skips fight back when I try to bring them in. I wouldn't want a room here, either. Although I know he's been arrested in the past, Ranger looked out of place here. It was like putting a bottle of fifty-year-old scotch inside a container filled with room temperature beers.

I also noticed during my inspection of the room _and _him that Ranger is moving gingerly. I couldn't stop my disappointed sigh as I watched him. Jumping Ranger is clearly out of the question, but maybe Ranger will be okay with me nursing him back to health, or at least let me distract him enough so he'll forget he probably feels like shit right about now. Judging by Ranger's words and appreciative stare, he was thinking along the same lines. I never thought it would happen, but maybe we're finally on the same page at the same time. I don't know what changed Ranger's mind about us, or even if his mind _had _been changed, but I'm willing to use whatever leverage I've got on him now.

Ranger's gaze got hotter and darker the longer he looked at me. I could feel a blush forming as my mind flashed back to when I'd seen a similar expression on his face. Ranger and I had been naked and in his bed at the time. When Ranger actually said,_ out loud_, that he missed me, I almost went boneless. I guess Joe's Grandma Bella was right about me. I _am _a slut. One heated stare and a few sweet words from Ranger and I'm freakin' putty in his bruised and bloodied hands.

I tried to cut the sexual tension between us with a joke about just seeing each other at the bonds office, but it fell flat. Ranger stuck his hand into the front pocket of his pants and kept it there until I asked if he was ready to head out. It was only as I was turning to go that I remembered Joe had been bunking with Ranger. Tank didn't mention anything about Morelli, and my bank account is still _far _from healthy, so I wasn't sure what to do with him. It seemed mean to leave Joe caged up here. My concern was for nothing, though, and I couldn't help smiling again when Ranger told me that Joe had called his mother. Old Burg habits die hard, I guess.

My smile stilled when Ranger said he and I were going 'home', but that could mean _a ton _of different things ... Rangeman, my apartment, the _Batcave_. The stupid GPS was mentioned, and I had to squelch my impatience at trying to figure out directions to yet another hideaway. My irritation turned to waterworks when Ranger said the directions were listed under '_Someday_'. I _never _forgot Ranger saying that to me, and I guess he never forgot saying it. No matter how screwed up we've been, we always seem to understand each other perfectly.

My head found Ranger's shoulder as he escorted me out of the building like he hadn't been locked up inside it an hour ago. That's the magic of Ranger. He embodies whatever image he wants - or needs - to portray. Ranger didn't let go of me even when we'd stopped to pick up the things taken from him last night. And I couldn't help being a little nervous about what's going to happen now. I hadn't thought this far ahead and Ranger doesn't reveal all his secrets at one time. I'll probably have to be patient for a little longer, but at least this time I'm almost positive the rest of the mystery will be explained to me.

Ranger had me tucked under his uninjured shoulder as we walked out to the Turbo. The only reason I know he's hurt is because I accidentally bumped it when I had placed a light kiss to his bruised lip and caught the barely imperceptible wince before it was quickly hidden. Ranger doesn't acknowledge such trivial things as physical pain. He did, however, let me drive the Turbo to wherever the hell we're going now. As soon as Ranger and I were both buckled in, I studied the man beside me before starting the car.

"You and Morelli really need to stop running into each other's fists," I told Ranger, trying to focus only on his injured lip and not the muscles straining his t-shirt.

Ranger was quiet for a moment as his hand once again dipped into his pocket. His fingers were closed tight around something when his hand reappeared.

"How about if you promise to keep this on your finger," Ranger said to me, "I'll leave Morelli alone?"

I looked down at the ring I spent close to a week wearing. I cursed myself for it, but I actually missed the stupid thing. Maybe _I'm _the one who'd received a blow to the head today instead of Joe and Ranger to be thinking Ranger has been carrying my ring around with him ever since we returned from Hawaii.

"And if I _don't _promise?" I asked Ranger.

"I'll kill Joe," he said, matter-of-factly.

"You _will not _kill Joe."

"You really want to take the chance that I'm not kidding, Babe?" Ranger asked me, his eyes intent as he looked into mine.

"No." I said. "I really don't. It would be the wrong decision for all of us. Joe deserves to be as happy as we can be."

"I wouldn't go _that _far, Babe. I just don't want him near you anymore."

"And you think a ring will keep Joe away?" I asked Ranger.

"Morelli's seen what I'm capable of if he tries standing in my way, so it being _my _ring will keep him in the Burg and away from you long term."

That's one theory I don't mind putting to the test. Ranger slipped the ring back on my finger, where we both agree it belongs now, and risked more discomfort from his shoulder by taking my mouth in a very deep, very thorough kiss that caused my body some discomfort as well since I'm not naked with Ranger inside me. I quickly found out that _'someday' _is _every _day now that Ranger and I are together.


End file.
